


Grunt Work

by CGotAnAccount



Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [21]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: CEO Shiro, Idiots in lust, M/M, Mutual Pining, SHEITH - Freeform, Somebody is hot for boss, assistant keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Keith can already tell he isn't going to make it long in this job, which is unfortunate because it pays great and looks even better on his resume.(Almost as good as his new boss)
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558660
Comments: 35
Kudos: 267





	Grunt Work

**Author's Note:**

> Day 21! Inspired by Elliott's thirst.

Keith can already tell he isn't going to make it long in this job, which is unfortunate because it pays great and looks even better on his resume.

Hunk had gotten him the interview on the fly after catering for some hot shot CEO who he said was both really cool and really pathetically in disarray trying to do everything himself, and well... Keith happens to be able to work a calendar and get coffee. Hunk may have fudged his credentials, just a little bit, telling this poor harried guy over sandwiches about his friend who was totally great at keeping track of things and was super dependable. He even apologized for not carrying one of Keith's nonexistent business cards and instead wrote his number down on a napkin that he tucked under one of his famous triple fudge brownies.

Two delicious bites later Keith had an interview and Hunk had a pocket full of tips.

Fortunately for Keith the interview had gone off without a hitch, even with his borrowed suit jacket and round about explanation of his previous experience in assisting someone – which really boiled down to 'helped keep everyone alive and not failing' during college... but with a few buzzwords like 'Outlook' and “spreadsheet' thrown around in there.

It probably helped that he knew the difference between a mocha, a latte, and an americano thanks to a miserable cafe job on campus. The first interviewer was maybe a little too fired up about the important of beverage accuracy as he twirled his orange mustache and squinted at Keith's resume.

It also didn't hurt that his bachelor's in aeronautical engineering meant that Keith actually knew what the emails he was screening were about. By the time the man had finished grilling him about the ins and outs of his fairly pathetic work history Keith was fairly certain they were going to send him home to wait on a call, but then the guy reached under the desk with a flourish and jammed something that opened a set of double doors on the side wall.

Interview part two went less smoothly. The CEO himself smiled at Keith as he shuffled papers around his hot wreck of a desk, waving Keith over with one gleaming hand. Between the smile and the sudden realization that Hunk was a saint, Keith was very nearly tongue tied, managing what he hoped wasn't a grimace as Takashi Shirogane himself looked at Keith like he was the answer to all his problems.

He doesn't even remember most of that first meeting – just the buzzing in his ears and the weight of that grip as he stood to shake Takashi “Call me Shiro” Shirogane's hand and heard those magic words.

“So when can you start?”

That had been last week, and it was only Wednesday.

And Keith was already fucked.

Shiro liked his coffee as pale and sweet as the man himself with about three extra shots of espresso, but asked Keith to write 'one cream, no sugar' on the side when he brought it in so Coran – the HR manager – wouldn't nag him about excess sugar and caffeine consumption.

And that was the shadiest thing he did.

Keith could hardly believe it, he'd heard rumors about working in the industry – long hours, torturous deadlines, labs built for automatons... but Shiro had given him a tour personally on his first day, stopping to say hello to every employee they passed, even wishing one or two of them a happy birthday. The offices and labs were immaculate but not sterile – bursts of color in the comfortable furniture and loads of gadgets and parts plunked down on collaborative tinkering spaces. The break rooms were well stocked with food and beverages, and Keith knew from Hunk that their lunches were catered each day on company dime.

Really, this was his dream job... he just happened to be in the wrong department for it, helping a man who could remember every one of his several hundred employee's names, but not who he was supposed to be meeting with each afternoon or where he put his favorite pens.

There was also one more tiny problem, minuscule even. Hardly worth mentioning.

Keith was unbearably, undeniably, unquenchably thirsty for his boss.

Every time Shiro would share a conspiratorial smile with him over coffee or thank Keith with one of those huge palms engulfing his shoulder he thought his face would burst into flames. All hope of having an easy job remembering some asshole's calendar went down the drain the first time Keith handed over a color-coded file of the day's meetings and Shiro looked up at him like he was so happy he could cry.

Over lunch on his second day Shiro had asked Keith about his dreams and then actually listened when Keith explained that he wanted to build prototype hover propulsion systems. He hadn't laughed, but peppered him with thoughtful followup questions as his eyes got brighter and brighter.

“You know,” Shiro hummed as he chewed through a mouthful of sandwich, not bothering to keep up his serious air as he plopped his elbows on the desk to point a toothpick at Keith. “You could be working in our labs right now with those kinds of ideas.”

Keith had shrugged it off, mumbling something about wanting to get rid of him already as his heart tried to escape his chest. It had taken long enough after graduation to get a job that was better than slinging fries or fixing lawnmowers... he couldn't possibly risk it by throwing himself into the unknown again right after getting hired.

Shiro had let it go easily, laughing as he clapped Keith on the shoulder and collected their trash with a wink.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

But even weeks later the only thing Keith has been dreaming of are his boss's thick thighs in his tailored suit pants, straining as he stands to peel apart his belt... or how those forearms would look as his hands clamp tight around Keith's hips, sinking into him on top of his desk. Would his lips taste as sweet as his coffee if Keith rose up onto his toes to whisper the morning's agenda into his mouth?

Probably not, but he'd give almost anything to find out. He'd bend himself over the gleaming mahogany in a heartbeat if he didn't think it would get him promptly fired and more than likely arrested. Still, that doesn't keep him from riding his own fingers into oblivion every night after work, trying to work off the pent up lust before he has to get up and start another day of trying not to stare at his boss's ass - or his chest, or his forearms, or his ridiculously chiseled jaw that's built like a goddamn seat, or his-

“Hey Keith, what's on the agenda today?”

Keith startles from his daydreaming about getting railed as the man in question pokes his head out from his office with a smile. He's not sure how early Shiro gets to the office each day, but the man is never anything but chipper even before Keith makes the first coffee run.

“Oh, uh...” He fumbles with a stack of papers, blushing as he digs out the folder he had put together last night. There's smiley faces on each tab separating the different aspects of Shiro's day, something Keith probably would have punched himself in the face for in any other situation. He hands it to his smiling boss, trying not to avert his eyes and fixate on the way the top button strains against his shirt. “There's a meeting with Miss Altea at ten am, then you've got a check in with Slav that might end up pushing your lunch back.”

Shiro cringes and drags a hand through his hair, ruffling the artfully tousled forelock.

“Any chance of getting that check in rescheduled for like... next century?”

Keith can't help the dignified snort that escapes him at Shiro's whipped puppy expression. Every time the lead engineer came up for one of his recaps Shiro came out of it looking like a man on the edge of workplace violence, begging Keith for more coffee or just a distraction from his impending need to murder.

“It can't be that bad today,” Keith assures him, picking through the notes to point at Matthew Holt's performance updates. “Matt wrote that the project is running ahead of schedule and the prototype engines were clocking in higher RPM than expected... what could he possibly complain about?”

“The color of my socks?” Shiro huffs, looking for all the world like a petulant child as he takes the folder. “Or last time it was my unlucky lunch choices, and the time before that he said I needed to rearrange my paintings for the most auspicious energy flow.”

Keith bites down his smile and tries to give him a sympathetic look as he reaches out to pat Shiro's hand.

“Maybe this time it'll only be your hair color?”

Shiro's jaw drops, his face a mask of utter betrayal as Keith presses his knuckles to his mouth to muffle his giggles.

“Punk.” Shiro sniffs, wrinkling his nose at his unruly assistant. “I'll have you know grey is very lucky.”

“I'm sure,” Keith agrees, eyes still sparkling as he gestures toward Shiro's general aura. “The whole silver fox thing seems to be working for you.”

The words tumble out too fast to think about them, and Keith nearly bites his tongue off as soon as he sees Shiro's eyes widen.

“I- I mean...”

“Oh ho, no. No taking that one back.” Shiro grins at him, obviously enjoying watching his assistant squirm. “Silver fox eh?” He raises an eyebrow and throws Keith an over the top wink, leaning to rest his arm on the door frame in a way that highlights his muscular form even through the button down and slacks. “I didn't know I was old enough for that one, but I'll take it.”

He fans himself once with the folder before throwing Keith a crooked grin and stepping back into his office, leaving Keith to his shell shocked thirst.

The buzzer on his desk chimes thirty seconds later.

“Yes, sir?”

“Oh it's sir now is it?” Shiro chuckles over the line, low and rich. “Can you grab an extra cup on your coffee run this morning? I feel like we're going to need it.”

“Yes, sir.” Keith squeaks, clicking the phone off and scrambling out of his chair, eager to put space between himself and the laughter he can hear floating through the door.

He should have taken a colder shower this morning.

* * *

Shiro can hear Keith scramble away from the desk even through his door as he lets his finger off the intercom button, unable to help the giddy grin stretching across his face.

When Hunk had suggested he get an administrative assistant Shiro had almost laughed at him – it wasn't that he needed anyone to help keep track of his things, but closer to the fact that it was lonely as hell to sit up in his glass cubed prison instead of being down in the labs where he wants to be. He knows what meetings he has to go to, he just doesn't want to know about it – and the chaos on his desk speaks to that unwillingness to acknowledge the boring bureaucracy he needs to sort through until it absolutely demands his attention.

Still, when it gets bad enough that you invite the caterer up to hang out because you miss having a friend and he slips you a phone number and a brownie because you look that pathetic, it's probably worth addressing.

And he really didn't mean to hire anybody. Sure, there's a desk there in front of his office, but it was there before the office was his to start with. The idea of having someone at his beck and call always made his skin crawl – the epitome of the domineering CEO image he never wanted for himself.

But then Keith walked into his office after spending twenty minutes going toe to toe with Coran's force of personality and coming out unscathed. That in itself was impressive enough to warrant meeting with him at least, and he really does like Hunk. What he didn't expect was the full might of a pair of eyes so deeply blue they might be purple smiling shyly at him from the door. Or the way those legs went on for ages as Keith strolled in to the room, wearing an aura of confidence like a well tailored suit. His handshake had been firm and wonderful, despite the deceptive appearance of his long, slim fingers. He had answered every question of Shiro's like he could do it in his sleep, and even had industry knowledge on his resume.

Shiro really, really should have thanked him for his time and proceeded to brain himself against the desk until he lost the ability to lust after potential hires. It would have been the right thing to do.

But Shiro is just a man, weak to pretty boys and the crooked grin that stretched across his face when Shiro tripped over himself to ask when he could start.

And really, his desk _is_ a mess... he could probably use the help.

That's how he gets himself through the first few days of having a new assistant that hits every single one of his buttons and tries the patience of his baser instincts. Sometimes Keith will walk in and bend over the desk as he sets down the coffee or reaches for a file that he wants to make notes in and it's all Shiro can do not to beg Keith to let him have that ass for lunch right then and there.

Every time he gets another set of papers with color coded happy faces he wants to drag the man into his glittering lair and cover his face in very professional smooches. Even the conspiratorial eyebrow wiggles when Keith drops off his very sensible coffee choices set his stomach fluttering like he's a goddamn teenager with his first crush all over again.

It's both wonderful and terrifying, knowing that he has the power to ruin Keith just as easily as he could make his life easier than he could have dreamed. And, as Coran had been quick to remind him after catching Shiro sighing wistfully at his assistant, power can do funny things to a person – or make a person think they need to do funny things.

It had been a sobering reminder, one he had stewed on the rest of the day as he picked through the newly organized briefings just to check out Keith's scribbled thoughts on sticky notes in the margins. Even getting him to voice his thoughts and input on projects had been something Shiro had hemmed and hawed on – torn between not wanting to add more workload to the man and the earnest desire to know what gears are turning in that stellar mind of his.

As it turns out, Keith had an uncanny eye for innovation – from ideas for new modulator builds in the latest prototype engines, to ways they can improve their testing courses in order to track things like cushioning capability on unusual landings and how much added boost to the fuel it takes to clear the safety walls. If he hadn't hired him on as an assistant Shiro doesn't doubt that one of his competitors would have found him quickly enough and snapped him up to work in their R&D labs.

Which makes Shiro feel even worse about the whole thing. Keith is an engineer to his core, his eyes light up when they chat over lunch about specs and his racing hobby in a way that steals Shiro's breath... and he's got him trapped in a desk job filing paperwork and setting up meetings just because Shiro thought he was cute.

He'd even floated the idea of letting Keith go work in the labs instead, a solution that would keep the unpolished talent in house and still let Shiro take care of him - but would also let Keith have relatively free reign to explore his dreams under the tutelage of Matt's eclectic band of misfits. It would have been perfect.

Except that Keith had shrugged it off like it was nothing, just smiling up at Shiro over his lunch like he was perfectly happy pushing pencils for someone who was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Like chasing his dreams was secondary to putting happy sticky notes on Shiro's files every morning, and getting them both coffee was the epitome of his career.

It didn't make any sense. The only thing Shiro could come up with was that Keith was somehow intimidated, like if he gave up the role of errand boy he might lose his paycheck altogether. As if Shiro would let that happen at this point.

But then he started noticing the lingering looks sent his way, the hint of a blush that worked itself up Keith's ears every time Shiro stops hunching over his desk and pulls back to stretch, calling Keith in for a conversation break. And, well... he's no fool. Shiro knows how he looks – he's been on the cover of several magazines for more than his technical prowess and regularly manages to make it into the 'Forty Under Forty' photo shoot edition that requests less than a full shirt every year... but he hadn't expected someone like Keith with so much fire in his veins and a face like the second coming of Venus to be blushing around anyone.

It opened up... possibilities. Shiro knows he can't in good conscience make the first move on someone so utterly at his mercy – even if it went well he'd be forever plagued by the question of whether Keith was interested or just wanted to keep his job... but if the younger man made a move first it's not like he had any intention of stopping him.

Except weeks flew by and Keith still didn't make a move. Case in point, him scurrying out with blazing cheeks as soon as Shiro starts flirting. It's more than a little disheartening, but equally adorable. It doesn't seem like it makes him uncomfortable, or Shiro would stop in a heartbeat and never bring it up again... but Keith just doesn't even attempt a move.

Maybe he's read it all wrong?

“Shiro, darling!”

He startles out of his tiny pity party as Allura swirls into the room with a smile and a cup of tea.

“A little birdie told me you've got a crush.”

Shiro groans and drops his head onto the desk, thoroughly ignoring Allura's tinkling laughter.

“Tell Coran he's fired and I hate him.”

“Gladly,” She clicks her tongue, eyes sparkling over the edge of her cup. “I could use a talented HR manager myself, you know good help is hard to find.”

Shiro huffs at her and rolls his head to the side to squint.

“I take it back, you can't have him.”

“No?” She raises an eyebrow and dips the bag twice, letting him stew under her critical gaze. “What about that new assistant of yours? He's awfully cute...”

Shiro bristles, denial on the tip of his tongue – and immediately realizes he's already lost as she aims her cheshire grin his way.

“That's what I thought... have you asked him out?”

The look Shiro shoots her could level mountains.

“I'm fairly sure we both know that's beyond inappropriate, I'm his boss.”

“You're also a lonely sad sack with more abs than common sense,” she scoffs, sipping her tea primly. “And you're a sweetheart to boot, he'd be a fool not to be interested in you.”

“Keith's not a fool,” Shiro snaps, a bit more testy than called for as he tries not to grind his teeth at her smug smile and raised eyebrow. “He's brilliant, and kind, and funny... and he's a hell of a good assistant, and would make a great engineer... I'm lucky to have him at all and I'm not going to risk that by being creepy.”

“Not to mention he's cute,” Allura goads in a sing-song, fingernails tapping on the edge of her cup. “And you want to woo him.”

“_Allura_,” Shiro growls, peeling his face off the desk to scowl at her properly. “It doesn't matter how gorgeous he is, or how much wooing he deserves... I'm not going to make unwanted advances on my employees – or on anyone for that matter. If he's interested he can talk to me.”

“Oh, don't worry.” Allura beams at him as she quaffs the entire rest of the cup in one go. “I'm sure he will be.”

Then she plunks the cup down on his desk and swirls out, pausing at the open door near the reception desk.

“You can go in now.” She turns back to wink at Shiro before reaching out of view to pat someone on the shoulder. “Knock him dead, kid.”

Shiro feels his soul leave his body as Keith shuffles in the door, red faced and holding three cups of coffee.

“She uh... stopped me in the lobby on the way back in...” He coughs and sets down two of the cups, helpfully labeled cream with no sugar. “I didn't mean to eavesdrop, and I would've left if I knew what she was doing.”

“That's- you...” Shiro gapes at him, feeling his own face heat to his ears as Keith shuffles his shoes on the carpet, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Oh my god, I am... so sorry.”

That earns him a snap of those dark eyes to his, confused and just a touch incredulous as Keith shakes his head. “You don't have anything to apologize for, Shiro.” He wrings his hands together for a moment before stepping forward, setting his own cup down and covering Shiro's numb fingers with his own. “You're a good guy.”

It feels like the nails in the coffin that holds Shiro's nonexistent chances.

“No,” he groans, dragging a hand through his hair as he looks up at Keith, full of chagrin and latent shame. “It's totally inappropriate of me to even have entertained that conversation at work... I understand if you're uncomfortable and would like a transfer out.” Keith startles at that, probably thinking he's about to lose his job, but Shiro plows on to reassure him. “I do think you'd be a great fit down in the labs with Matt, truly on your own merit – you don't have to worry about anything.”

“Shiro...” Keith swallows hard and steps closer to the desk, gnawing on his lip as he looks down at Shiro's pinched face. “I don't want to transfer out... at least not because of this.” He lets his thumb stroke Shiro's knuckles, cheeks rapidly darkening as he steps around the edge of the desk. “You said uh... if I was interested...”

“Keith,” Shiro squeaks, eyes wide as his assistant advances on him. “D-don't feel obligated.”

His eyes roll so hard Shiro worries they might fall out of his head.

“Does this look like obligation, sir?” Keith steps forward and plants a knee between Shiro's spread thighs on the chair, reaching up to cup his face in one slender hand. “I've been thinking about you for a while now.”

“Thinking?” Shiro asks, pulse hammering in his throat as he clamps a deathgrip on the arms of his chair. “Thinking like what?”

Keith's smirk is devastating.

“Sometimes, when you lean against that door I want to reel you in by your tie and taste the skin of your throat.” He lets his fingers trail down to stroke against the knot below Shiro's adam's apple. “Or when you settle against this desk I wonder what it would feel like to be bent over it... do you think it's that sturdy?”

“I-it's mahogany?” Shiro stutters, hips shifting involuntary as Keith eyes him like a predator with a rabbit in its sights. “You... oh my god, _Keith._”

“Shiro,” Keith simpers, letting his hand glide lower to fiddle with the buttons on Shiro's shirt, straining with every heaving breath as Shiro sweats beneath him. “If I had known you were waiting I would have done this sooner.”

“This?” He doesn't dare let his hands off the arms of the chair, unwilling to touch without explicit approval, knowing he won't be able to stop once the sensory memory of that tiny waist under his palms latches onto his brain. “What's... this?”

Keith smirks down at him, dipping lower to whisper in his ear, lips grazing the shell as his hot breath ghosts over it.

“Why don't we close the door and find out?”

“Oh _god_.” Shiro groans, hips bucking as he nods frantically. “Okay, yes. _Please._”

“You always ask so nicely,” Keith sighs, reaching up to drag Shiro's lower lip down with his thumb before pushing off the chair and swaying toward the door. It shuts with its usual quiet swoosh... then the click of the lock. “A gentleman in all things.”

Shiro nods frantically from the desk, eager to please as Keith walks back, fingers dragging on the dark wood as he goes. His tie is suffocating now and he tugs it looser, rubbing his free hand on his slacks.

“Anything – whatever you want.”

“What if I want you?”

The question ricochets around the room, low over the sound of Shiro's thundering pulse. Keith's head is cocked, smile soft and sultry as he moves his knee back onto the chair, hovering just out of Shiro's space.

Shiro's answer is two hands clamping onto those hips, pulling Keith to straddle his lap with a ragged sigh.

“You've already got me, baby.” He tilts his head to brush his nose against Keith's, then onto his cheek to press a kiss to his temple. He tangles their fingers together in a move that's almost jarringly intimate and looks up through his lashes, feeling terribly exposed. “I've been wrapped around your finger since you walked in here talking about theoretical green propellants.”

Keith's seduction melts in an instant, cheeks burning red as he ducks his face into Shiro's neck with a whine.

“Shiro!” He thwaps their joined hands against the firm chest below him and pulls back enough to scowl. “You can't just say things like that, I'm trying to seduce you.”

“Sorry baby,” Shiro rumbles, overwhelmed with fondness for this man in his arms. “You were doing a great job, don't worry.” He squeezes Keith's hip with his free hand, bringing their tangled fingers back up to kiss Keith's knuckles with the other. “But you really don't need to seduce me... I'll settle for anything you want to give me, even just conversation.”

Keith's soft, appreciative look puddles his heart in an instant.

“What about a kiss?”

And that Shiro can definitely do.

Telegraphing his intentions, he leans up into Keith's space, searching for any hint of doubt in those stormy eyes. Instead he finds a lightning strike of determination, right before Keith crushes their mouths together with a hand cupping the back of Shiro's neck. It's almost too sudden to think as Shiro's mind skips and stutters over the fact that this is _Keith_ in his lap, kissing him like his life depends on it.

Then Keith starts to falter, kickstarting Shiro's brain back into action enough to kiss back, licking into Keith's mouth and swallowing his surprised moan down. It's a heady mix of teeth and tongues, bruising and nipping as their hands roam and rumple their clothing.

Keith pulls back with a gasp, rocking down with fire in his eyes as Shiro pants up at him.

“I really wanna blow you.”

“_Keith,”_ Shiro gasps, eyes bugging comically wide as Keith slithers off the chair to his knees, rubbing his hands along Shiro's thighs with a stubborn set to his jaw – like he's capable of saying no to that. “God, you're beautiful.”

The man in question snorts, eyes glimmering as he reaches up to pop the button on Shiro's slacks and shimmies them down his hips.

“I bet you say that to all the cute boys ready to blow you in your office.”

He licks his lips as he pulls Shiro out of his boxers, thick and heavy and already starting to leak at the tip. He's an absolute vision.

“Well yeah,” Shiro whimpers, torn between throwing his head back and the magnetic pull of Keith's eyes as he laps at the head of Shiro's cock. “Since you're the only one I guess so.”

That makes Keith pause, lips parted just so around the tip, shiny with precome already.

“Really?” Each word drags his plush mouth around the head and Shiro can't help the whine that pulls from his chest as he nods. “I can't believe nobody's ever tried to get their mouth on this beauty before...” He lets his tongue curl around the head, closing his eyes and humming like it's the best meal he's had all week.

“Wasn't interested before,” Shiro groans, hips stuttering as Keith hollows out his cheeks and moans around the heat that's pushing toward the back of his tongue. “Didn't want anyone... not til you.”

Keith pulls off at that, panting and stroking the now-slick length as he looks up through his lashes, a sly smile curling at the edge of his swollen mouth.

“Well, can't let your restraint be wasted now can we?”

Then he's diving back down, pressing steadily forward until his nose is buried in Shiro's white curls and his eyes are watering, throat spasming around the thick cock in his throat.

“Oh _fuck._”

Shiro grabs the back of his head, not to thrust him down, but cradling it to pull his hair from his face to see the tears beading at the corners of Keith's eyes.

“Oh god, baby you look so good, oh fuck-”

Keith whines, throat clamping tighter as he does, swallowing as much as he can before pulling back with a cough to catch his breath.

“Shiro,” he rasps, eyes spilling over despite Shiro's best efforts to wipe them away with his thumb. “I wanna taste you.”

Shiro's heart barely has time to skip a beat before Keith is back on his cock, working his way back down with punched out little whimpers. He can see the bulge in Keith's throat as he gets all the way down and it's like a shot of lightning right through him.

“_Shit.”_ He bites down on his fist to muffle a groan, bucking up into the wet heat of Keith's throat, arousal threatening to boil over at Keith's choked off answering moan. “Baby, I'm close-”

Then those slim fingers slide up, teasing at Shiro's balls before slipping back and pressing at his hole – and it's all over.

“Fu-uck,” Shiro garbles into his hand, straining to keep his hips from impaling Keith on his cock as he jerks through his orgasm. It's hard with Keith swallowing around him, not wasting a drop as he milks Shiro dry between little mewls. “Baby...”

He tugs on Keith's hair, pulling him off with a wet gasping noise that has his spent cock twitching in interest. Keith's face is a mess of spit, come, and tears as he pulls in ragged breaths, but it doesn't matter one ounce to Shiro. He pulls him in for a biting kiss, hand pushing up Keith's shirt and fumbling with the catch on his slacks as the younger man writhes in his lap, desperation incarnate.

It doesn't take more than two strokes with the head of Keith's cock dragging against Shiro's abs for him to spill, hot and messy across the bottom of Shiro's button down. His face is gorgeous, a painting of ecstasy that Shiro wants to sear into his mind forever.

He settles for crushing Keith to his chest, cupping him around the waist and pulling him to straddle his thighs, flush together from hips to shoulders just to feel the come down of his thundering heart. Keith whimpers, but goes easily – nearly limp as Shiro brushes a hand through his sweat damp hair and buries his nose in Keith's neck.

“Keith...” he sighs, letting his eyes drift shut as he breathes in the scent he's only caught whiffs of, heady and masculine, and utterly intoxicating. “That was...”

Keith nods, dragging his mop of hair across Shiro's face as he holds up an 'okay' sign with his fingers, body still limp.

Shiro chuckles underneath him, holding him tight as he moves his stroking down Keith's back to rub soothing circles there.

“Are you okay? How's your throat?”

That's enough for Keith to pull back, aiming a flat look at Shiro as he drop his gaze between them to where their softening cocks are sticky and rapidly cooling, then back up to meet Shiro's eyes.

“Really?” he croaks, rolling his eyes. “I'm terrible, Shiro, obviously...” He shakes his head before settling back into Shiro's arms, burying his face in his shoulder. “Sappy idiot.”

Hiding his smile in Keith's hair seems like the safest option, so Shiro does – content to enjoy the feeling of the lean body slumped against his.

“Hey do you um...” he hedges, glad that Keith can't see his face as he blushes. “Do you wanna grab dinner tonight?”

Keith stills in his arms, and Shiro can feel the eyebrow raise against his collarbone.

“Why, Mr. Shirogane... are you asking me out?”

Shiro lets out a huff of laughter at Keith's teasing tone and squeezes him close, pressing a kiss to the crown of his hair.

“I guess I am... if that's agreeable to you.”

“Mmm...” Keith hums, pulling back again with a twinkle in his eyes. “I'll have to check my schedule, my boss is a real stickler for keeping on top of things.”

The eyebrow wiggle is irresistible as Shiro grins down at Keith, for once looking like the playful thirty-five year old he is.

“I'm sure he'd be fine with letting you be on top of things sometimes too.”

Keith's incredulous laugh and undoubtedly witty reply are cut short by a knock at the door.

“Yoo-hoo!”

Shiro freezes, clutching onto Keith's hips like a deer in the headlights as he looks down at their state of general disarray and his stained shirt.

“Mr. Shiro, I am here for my appointment!”

Keith claps a hand over his mouth to muffle the bark of hysterical laughter that threatens to bubble out of him and scrambles off of the chair. The knocking starts again as he swipes tissues from the desk and gives them both a perfunctory wipedown before tucking himself back in his pants.

He looks utterly debauched – hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, and clothes rumpled beyond hope... he's a vision.

Shiro blinks at him, besotted and hopeless. Keith glances at him and snorts, reaching out to click his jaw shut.

“Don't worry, boss.” He winks, then reaches to button up Shiro's pants, giving him a little pat on the zipper and a kiss on the cheek. “I'll handle it.”

Then he's sauntering toward the door, all confidence and authority as he cracks it and slips out.

“Mr. Shirogane isn't feeling well today.”

His voice is a no nonsense rasp that sends heat flaring across Shiro's cheeks, and he briefly wonders how it would feel to be the one calling someone 'sir'...

“But today is our weekly recap, I have notes on the specifications that need changing and-”

“You can give the files to me, I'll make sure he gets them.” Keith cuts across Slav coolly, brooking no argument as the lead engineer sputters. “The files?”

“Yes, well... fine.” Slav grumbles, obviously put out. “But make sure he logs what color socks he has on this week – it is of the utmost importance.”

“Will do,” Keith grunts, followed by the slap of the files on his desk. “Now if you'll excuse me I need to take care of his next appointment.”

And then he's stepping back inside, shutting the door in Slav's face with a cheshire grin.

“My hero!” Shiro wheezes, making grabby hands in his direction as Keith steps around into his arms again. “You saved me.”

“Don't thank me yet, boss.” Keith grins down at him before settling back into his lap. “You still have a two thirty with the lead from the Marmora project and a four o'clock with Matt... and your coffee is probably cold by now.”

“Don't care.” Shiro beams at him, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “The only appointment I care about is my six-thirty... chinese at my place sound good?”

Keith huffs a laugh and plucks at the dirty shirt, fully aware that as Shiro's assistant he should probably be finding another suitable replacement.

Instead, he lets himself sink into another kiss, smiling against the lips of one Mr. Shirogane, CEO.

“Anything you want, boss... I'm all yours.”


End file.
